


Rouge

by WahlBuilder



Category: Mars: War Logs, The Technomancer (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Noir, Dress Up, M/M, Multi, twenty headcanons in a trench coat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 10:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17405036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WahlBuilder/pseuds/WahlBuilder
Summary: Roy is dressing up for a special performance while Innocence watches.





	Rouge

**Author's Note:**

> The first part of a story we haven't (yet) written with Grizzles. Pretty self-contained, though.  
> Zach/Sean is hinted at.

Roy is unconventional.

It’s one of the first things one notices about him, although not _the_ first thing (usually that is his way with brass knuckles). It’s one of the things that make certain people like him. Innocence is no exception—although it could also be said that he _is_ an exception at the same time, because there are not many people who like Roy…

He shakes his head, gathering his thoughts again. He keeps watching.

There is a sight to admire.

Roy is humming in front of a huge mirror in a heavy gilded frame (Innocence has never received a satisfactory explanation of why a private detective would need such a mirror, but it has already made their bedroom life _interesting_ ). His legs are accentuated by tight dark-blue trousers. Innocence has never been good at keeping up with fashion, but he doesn’t think anyone would care—because these trousers sit on Roy just perfectly, belying every shift of his stance.

Innocence sits very straight on the edge of Tenacity’s favourite armchair. His gaze travels up, over Roy’s back. He thinks a dark-yellow shirt with a blue silk waistcoat embroidered with an asymmetrical pattern might not be _the_ fashion, but nobody would care about that, either.

There is supposed to be a jacket. There is supposed to be a tie. A selection of colourful ties hangs from the nearest chair. Roy has discarded all of them.

His hair isn’t pomaded. He says he hates that stuff. Tenacity has renewed his uneven haircut just a few days ago. Roy only allows Tenacity and Innocence do it for him. Innocence loves feeling the prickly grain against his palm. He wants to run his fingers into the longer hair on top of Roy’s head, but Roy has just combed it into submission.

There are creamy beads wrapped over Roy’s forearm. Innocence knows there are eight-and-a-hundred of them and they are made of bone.

There is a dab of red lipstick on Roy’s lips. It is too deliberate to be mistaken for a forgotten kiss.

Unconventional.

But the place they are going to is nothing but unconventional.

‘You should arrive at half past eight,’ Roy says. He fixes his collar, frowns, though Innocence doesn’t see what’s wrong with it.

It’s a quarter past four, and Tenacity has left an hour ago, dressed just as unconventionally as Roy, although his waistcoat is crimson.

They’ve been rehearsing something at _Charity’s_ for a month now.

The upcoming hours are going to be difficult, Innocence thinks. He loves Roy’s singing, even though Roy so rarely sings (Charity said he had almost never sung—before meeting Innocence and reuniting with Tenacity, that is). But tonight must be something special: they have been rehearsing with a third.

Innocence tries to imagine what kind of musical instrument Zachariah plays. Zachariah has been keeping it a secret from the precinct, it seems: Innocence saw him leaving _Charity’s_ without the escort of his partner.

All will be revealed tonight. If things go bad for Zachariah, they can always bring him in. He’s a good man.

Roy leaves his fiddling with the collar and turns to Innocence. Innocence smiles at him and murmurs with heat rising to his cheeks, ‘You look… dazzling.’

Roy raises his eyebrows. ‘I hope I won’t pull all attention to myself. This night is not about me.’ He walks to Innocence, and Innocence tilts his head up, knowing what’s to come.

Roy’s warm hand on his neck, Roy’s lips brushing his lightly, here and gone. Innocence aches for more, but Roy pulls back, and his lipstick is slightly smeared.

Innocence brings his hand to his lips.

‘Looks good on you, too, kid.’

He blushes again. ‘Not as good as on you. Go on. You’ll be late.’

Roy runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tick he has picked from Tenacity. ‘I hope you will like it.’


End file.
